


Down Time

by Thighz



Category: Titanfall
Genre: BT just wants to help, Cooper's had a rough start, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Praise Kink, Robot/Human Relationships, Stress Relief, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 16:16:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13791396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighz/pseuds/Thighz
Summary: In-between missions, BT insists Cooper gets some shut-eye before they fall on the next part of Typhon.Cooper just needs alittlebit of help.





	Down Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oricalcon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oricalcon/gifts).



> Ori insisted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The ride will take about two hours.” Briggs sighs, staring at her data pad at the foot of BT’s chassis.

Jack stares down at her from the cockpit of his titan and nods, “Two hours.”

“I would suggest rest.” BT cuts in, “Pilot Cooper has not slept in 46 hours.”

Briggs nods, “Agreed. You’ve had a hell of an adventure the last few days, Cooper.” She spins a finger around, “I’ll clear out the hanger while you two get some down time.”

“You really don’t have to.” Jack shrugs, “I can sleep through anything.”

“It would be appreciated, Commander.” BT says.

Jack scowls at the top of the cockpit, “Seriously.”

“You will rest better without the noise of other titans and their pilots.” BT assures.

“Listen to your titan, Coop.” Briggs grins, brandishing her pad at him, “You’re connected and he knows you better than you know yourself.”

_ Good to know _ , Jack thinks as he watches her whistle at the two other titans in the hanger with them. They follow her out, pilots situated at either foot or shoulder. One waves over at Jack and tells him to get some shut eye.

“I would suggest one of the cots near the infirmary station.” BT points across the room to a tiny medical section.

Jack slumps back in the seat of the cockpit and grins, “Nah. I’m comfy here. Close her up, BT.” He taps his boot on the open lip of the pit and BT closes it as requested.

“Are you sure, Cooper?” BT asks.

“Positive.” Jack crosses his ankles and sinks back into the hard line of his seat. BT’s mechanics whirl around him like the perfect white noise, “I’ll keep my helmet on in case we gottta bounce quickly.”

“Rest well, Cooper.”

Jack smiles to himself and closes his eyes.

He only gets about twenty minutes before a harsh bounce startles him awake. It’s the ship, he can tell by the turbulence.

Jack’s actually kind of glad for the wake-up call. Much as he needs the rest, all he can see behind his eyes are the explosions of the past two days. The constant running, the time traveling, the falling from a goddamn interstellar transmission disk.

“Apologies, Cooper.” BT pipes up, “I did not mean to wake you. The ship was experiencing a slight shift in wind and I attempted to brace myself. I did not succeed.”

Jack inhales slowly, “It’s cool. Bad dreams anyway.”

“You have seen more action in the past 46 hours than most pilots see on their first mission with a linked titan.”

“You sure? Lastimiosa had some pretty crazy stories.” Jack cracks an eye open.

“Indeed.” BT agrees, “I would suggest you try to sleep again. I can clear your neural paths to assure a blank mind, should you wish.”

Jack blinks, “You can do that?”

“We have not been linked long,” BT hedges, “However, it would not hurt to try.”

Jack purses his lips, “Nah.” He shimmies down further in his seat, “I may as well find something to eat -.”

“I insist you rest, Jack.” BT’s voice is firm, demanding, “We have more work ahead and you must be at peak performance.”

Jack spreads his palms out and sighs, “What do you suggest I do? Count sheep?”

A pause, “The counting of sheep does not register as a preferred sleeping -.”

“It’s a saying, BT.” Jack grumbles.

BT is quiet for a time and Jack is not getting anywhere counting metaphorical sheep. He kinda wants to demand he be let out to get some grub and maybe some tips from the other pilots in the mess hall. There’s little more than an hour left before they reach the base and Jack needs to do something other than sit -

“I may be able to help.” BT offers.

Jack casts his eyes to the top of the cockpit, “Oh yea? How?”

“I can stimulate your nervous system and attain a high that would release endorphins to exhaust your system long enough to fall asleep.”

Jack’s mouth dips into a frown, “I think I understood some of that.” He replays the words in his head for a second time, “Wait. Do you mean an  _ orgasm _ ?”

“That is the human term.” BT confirms.

“Without me touching myself?” Jack asks.

“Affirmative.”

Jack hums, “That doesn’t seem like much fun.” He flexes the fingers of his right hand within the glove, “No reward if I let you do all of the work.”

“The -  _ reward _ -” BT assures, “Would be the same.”

Jack grins, “Or I could just jack it right here.”

“I do not understand that term.”

Jack laughs outright, throwing his helmeted head back and curling a hand over the controls of his seat, “It means I could achieve orgasm with my hand.”

“Would you prefer that method?” BT inquires.

Jack considers it, “The hangar still clear?”

“Yes.” BT replies, “Even if it were full, I assure you no one would be able to hear what happens inside my chassis.”

“You’re a real pal, BT.”

Jack struggles for a second with the zipper on the front of his shiny new pilot suit. It takes a while, there’s a utility belt to part and two layers of tight under armor to get through before he can pull his dick out. It’s still soft, he doesn’t expect it to be erect so soon after seeing a goddamn battlefield for two days.

But he settles in and wraps a hand around the base, light strokes and a firm thumbing over the slit getting him where he needs to be. Jack closes his eyes and enjoys the sensation of leather gloves on sensitive flesh, trying to picture the last person he took to bed.

He hadn’t slept with a woman since his last stint on Harmony. So it was probably the cadet during his last assignment, the blonde one with the green eyes and the killer smile. He’d been eager and willing and Jack had needed a quickie to tide him over on his long mission with Lastimosa’s team.

Jack pictures the sex, but it’s murky and wavy mixed in with the memories of the last few months.

“Do you require assistance, Cooper?”

Jack’s heart skips and a jolt of arousal zips down into his stomach and pools at the base of his cock. He pictures BT’s hulking frame for the first time. The awe he felt at seeing a Militia-built Titan for the first time.

When he opens his eyes, he’s hard and leaking and he hasn’t answered BT’s question, “Uh - No.” He swallows and twists his fist around his cock, “I’m -”

“Your heart rate has increased in the last ten seconds.”

Jack wants to burst out laughing again, but his dick is throbbing and he’s pretty sure he’ll ruin his erection if he lets himself think too much about this.

But it’s not really that strange is it?

He gives his dick a couple more pulls, stomach twisting with the sensation and pleasure curling tight. His eyes flutter shut and he tries to picture the blonde cadet again, but all he comes up with is BT’s fingers folding around his frame right before he’s thrown into the air.

The cool metal against his suit and the thrill of flying high and landing with perfect accuracy at the point BT calculated.

He shivers and bites into his bottom lip, “Actually, BT?”

“Yes, Cooper?” BT asks.

“Think you can just talk to me?” Jack feels silly for asking and he’s a split second from taking it back.

“Do you require vocal stimulation?”

Jack strokes his hand up again, cock jerking at the sound of BT’s voice, “You could say that.”

BT is quiet for a bit. Jack doesn’t stop pulling at his cock and each stroke spirals him closer to that end he so desperately needs.

“You are an outstanding pilot, Cooper.”

Jack’s eyes fly open and his chest hitches, fingers tightening around the base of his cock as a surge of pleasure soars through his veins. His heart skitters and he swipes his thumb over the crown, finding it practically oozing precum.

“You have far surpassed all hopes Lastimosa had when he picked you.”

Jack huffs out a strangled breath, pumping harder and hips jerking into the tight fist of his hand. His boots hold him steady, pressed as they are to the bottom of the cockpit door. His toes can’t curl at the ends, but they sure are trying their best.

“I am proud to call you my pilot.”

‘Oh  _ fuck -  _ BT -.” Jack shouts,  _ loud _ and open mouthed as he pulls one last time around the tip of his cock. He comes hard, his free hand slapping against the top of the cockpit and hips rising to ride out wave after wave of searing heat. 

His knees shake as his ass hits the chair and cum slides down the tan lines of his chest and into the armor bunched at his waist.

“Jesus.” Jack wheezes out, gloves sticky with semem.

He wants to be irritated at the mess, but instead he pools like liquid into his chair and can feel the tired flutter of his eyelids threatening sleep.

“Time?” He mumbles, cleaning up the mess best he can and zipping his suit back up.

“You have forty-five minutes before Titanfall.” BT informs him.

“Mmmm.” Jack drops his head back against the headrest, “Wake me about five minutes before.”

“Of course.”

Jack lets out a soft sigh and can feel the heavy blackness folding in on him. Except, he doesn’t see muzzle flash or bombs going off this time. Instead, he sees the bright blue of BT’s ocular system staring down at him, thumb pointed skyward, guiding him to their next destination, “Hey, buddy?”

“Yes, Jack?”

“Thanks.” Jack murmurs.

BT’s body shifts and settles, “Protocol 3. Rest well, Pilot.”

  
  


 

 

END

 


End file.
